In the distant, ethereal realm of Chaos, the figure of Xuan Jiutian, a being so powerful that even gods bowed to his will, stood on the edge of his fall. The skies of Chaos cracked with dark energy as the battle between him and his former comrades raged. His once trusted allies had turned against him, led by a shadowy figure—someone he once thought of as a brother.
The skies shimmered with the glow of divine weapons and mystical energy, yet even as Xuan Jiutian fought with all his might, he was overpowered. The sheer numbers, combined with the betrayal, were too much. Blood dripped from the corners of his mouth as the power of the Chaos Realm itself resisted him, betraying the one it had long revered.
"Xuan Jiutian! You should have known that even you cannot rule forever!" the shadowy figure's voice echoed through the heavens. The figure stepped forward, the smirk on his lips widening as he saw Xuan Jiutian struggle. The rest of the traitors surrounded him, their eyes filled with greed for the power he had cultivated over countless eons.
Xuan Jiutian's vision blurred. His once limitless energy was draining fast. His enemies thought they had cornered him, but a faint smile appeared on his face.
"They think this is the end…" he muttered to himself. "They underestimate me."
In that moment, just as the final blow was about to land, Xuan Jiutian concentrated the last vestige of his divine soul into a wisp of energy. His enemies thought they had destroyed him completely, but unknown to them, that wisp escaped the Chaos, hurtling across dimensions to a faraway realm—Earth.
The world had moved on, unaware of the great battle in the heavens.
In a small village at the outskirts of the world, nestled within a range of misty mountains, a boy lay motionless. His body was weak, frail, and ordinary by all appearances. The village healer shook his head, declaring him dead after a mysterious fever had claimed his life.
But then, as the night fell, the boy's body stirred.
Within him, the soul of Xuan Jiutian awakened, now reincarnated as a young mortal boy named Feng Yunxian. The remnants of his divine power were gone—his immense cultivation, his mastery over the realms, all reduced to mere memories. For the first time in eons, he felt mortal. Weak. Helpless.
Feng Yunxian opened his eyes. The familiar glow of divine energy was no more. Instead, he saw the dim light of a humble village home. The air was heavy, not with the energy of the heavens, but with the scent of earth and smoke.
"Where... am I?" His voice cracked, barely above a whisper.
His head throbbed with the flood of memories. He recalled the betrayal, the battle, and the moment he had chosen to preserve his soul. This body, so foreign to him, was now his new vessel. He clenched his fists, weak and feeble, but within them, he still held onto his past.
"Earth..." he murmured, recognizing the realm he had descended to. "So, I made it."
As the days passed, Feng Yunxian learned more about his surroundings. The village was small, untouched by the cultivation world. His new family was poor but kind—simple folk who farmed the land and cared for the young Feng Yunxian as though he were one of their own.
His mother, a soft-spoken woman named Aunt Li, believed his miraculous recovery was a blessing from the heavens. "The fever nearly took you," she would say, stroking his hair. "But the heavens must have greater plans for you."
Little did she know how right she was.
Despite the warmth of his new family, Feng Yunxian could not forget his past. He had been the Divine Immortal of Chaos, the ruler of realms. To be trapped in such a weak, mortal form was nothing short of humiliating.
Days turned into weeks, and Feng Yunxian struggled to adapt to his new life. He had tried to cultivate in secret, attempting to harness the energy of this realm as he once did in the Chaos. But Earth was different. Spiritual energy here was thin, almost non-existent compared to the realms he once dominated. Every attempt ended in failure.
"How can anyone cultivate in this barren realm?" he growled in frustration after yet another failed meditation attempt.
His frustration only grew as he realized how fragile his body was. He no longer possessed the strength to crush mountains or summon storms with a wave of his hand. His body ached after just a short walk through the fields, and even lifting heavy tools was a challenge.
But Feng Yunxian was not one to give up easily. He had ascended through countless hardships in his previous life, and he would do it again, no matter how long it took.
"I will rise once more," he vowed to himself, staring at the distant mountains beyond the village. "I will reclaim what is mine. And when I return to the Chaos, they will all pay."
One evening, as the village settled down for the night, a mysterious figure appeared at the edge of the village. It was an old beggar, his robes tattered, but his eyes held a strange light—one that seemed to see beyond the mortal world.
Feng Yunxian, returning from a failed attempt at cultivation, encountered the beggar at the village gates.
The old man paused, his gaze locking onto Feng Yunxian with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine. "You... are not like the others," the beggar said, his voice raspy yet filled with certainty.
Feng Yunxian narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"
The beggar smiled, revealing crooked teeth. "The heavens have marked you. There is something ancient within you... something divine."
For a moment, Feng Yunxian felt the weight of the beggar's words. Could this old man somehow sense his true identity?
Before he could ask more, the beggar turned and vanished into the shadows, leaving only the echo of his cryptic words.
As Feng Yunxian watched the mysterious beggar disappear into the night, a new sense of urgency gripped him. This encounter was a sign—he could not remain in the village for long. His path lay beyond these humble beginnings. The Chaos awaited him, and his enemies still believed him dead.
But they were wrong.
The Divine Immortal would rise again!!!